THE HARDEST WORDS TO SAY
by Aryea
Summary: I felt there was more to be said at the end of Triple Killer episode, so I decided to see where it might lead. SPOILER alert for Season 3XK
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: CASTLE and all its characters belong to ABC and their creator the great Andrew W. Marlowe. I am merely these borrowing these characters to express my artistic perception of an hourly show that seems all to brief. SPOILERS for 3XK (Triple Killer) episode. (portions of conversations and scenes abducted from original with no intent other than to entertain) While it has become one of my favorites, I felt the episode needed a little more story at the end. First time writing a CASTLE fic, please be kind and PLEASE, PLEASE review (I am sooooo needy) Many thanks to the **All** encompassing and talented Nathan Fillon and Stana Katicwho intrigue us with their mysteries and tickle us with their wit. They have succeeded in bringing to life to of my favorite characters to date! Let me know if I should continue!

CHAPTER ONE

"Castle!" Kate cried as she kicked in the door of motel room 47.

"It's clear!" Rick turned his head as the door flew open then slowly turned back to the bright beam of a flashlight. "He's gone. I'm fine. Ryan needs an ambulance." Rick barely heard the younger detectives protest from the floor as he gazed at the naked concern on Kate Beckett's face. Relief flooded him at the sight of her.

Kate holstered her gun and bent behind Rick to untie his hands. "I'm so glad you're okay."

At any other time, Rick would have come back with a witty, possibly flirtatious remark, but all his usual humor had been scared out of him. "It was Tripler Killer. He set Gates up to be a copycat."

"I know," Kate admitted as she moved in front of him, needing to see for herself that he was uninjured. "I did the math when you and Ryan didn't come back from talking to Jerry."

"How did you know to come here?"

"You're mom called. She said that you told her that you loved her and she figured that something must be terribly wrong."

"I figured she might." He nodded and looked away, continuing almost in a whisper. "Good girl."

"Can you stand?" Kate asked, as Esposito helped his partner to rise.

Rick nodded and stood, a little shaky at first, but then he pulled himself up to his full height. "I'm fine."

Kate stared at him and the urge to throw her arms around him was almost overwhelming, but she refrained. "Come on, let's get out of here so they can sweep for evidence."

He nodded and followed her out of the apartment and down the stairs. Already the area was teaming with police and Ryan was being led to the ambulance just a few feet away.

"Castle!" Captain Montgomery called and stepped up. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." He repeated, unable to say much else. He wasn't fine, he was far from fine, but he couldn't express that.

Montgomery clapped Rick on the shoulder. "Good, I don't like it when my own get hurt."

Normally such praise would have warmed him, but at the moment, Rick only felt cold. "Thank you," he replied just as another cop ran up.

"Detective," he said to Kate, apologetically. "The hotel manager is asking for an explanation."

She looked at Rick who immediately waved her off. "I'm fine," he said again.

"I'll be right back," she promised and walked away with the cop.

Rick moved around the gated fence to the pool area of the hotel and settled on one of the benches by the water. He could hear people talking, Ryan protesting to the paramedics, on the other side of the fence, that he didn't need a trip to the hospital and Esposito insisting he go.

Slowly it all became muted. He heard the commotion and didn't hear the commotion. He realized his hands had started to shake and clasped them together as he stared out over the water.

Kate quickly informed the hotel owner of the situation and that any complaints or damage would be taken care of by the department. She then checked quickly on the forensic team's progress before heading back to find Castle.

She stopped abruptly as she spotted him by the pool, his broad shoulders slumped, a slight shiver in his back and his hand clasped tightly in front of him. He looked so…alone. Not at all like her tall, charming, sidekick, always the first one to crack a joke or lure them into a theory of ridiculous intrigue.

A sudden bout of hysteria rose inside her as she thought about what she might find behind that hotel room door. The idea that Castle had been killed by the Triple Killer, if she had been only moments later, or if Castle had not managed to talk his way out of death, caused a massive knot in her gut.

Instead of joining him she turned on her heel and headed away from the hotel and around the corner. She leaned against the corner of a building as soon as she was out of sight and allowed the hysteria and fear to break. Tears stung her eyes, a few slipping past her guard to splash down over her cheeks. Her breath came in short, rough gasps as she struggled to control the panic attack.

She hadn't had one of these since she'd caught her Mother's killer, when at that time she was also faced with the loss of something precious. She talked herself back from the ledge and thought of Castle, alive, well and smiling.

She brushed angrily at her cheeks, until all the moisture had been neutralized, and then ran a hand through her hair. She took a few deep breaths and then spotted a small coffee shop across the street. She moved forward, hoping they also had a bathroom.

What an idiot he had been. What a fool, an arrogant, imbecilic fool. Jerry had been the killer all along and he hadn't seen it until it was too late. He had almost gotten himself killed, running around after a killer, playing at being a homicide detective.

That's what he had really been doing the last three years, playing a role. Pretending he was a character in one of his books and, just like a character in one of his books, he almost ended up being the death that Nikki Heat had to investigate.

He caught the subtle scent of her perfume before he saw her, and looked up to watch as Kate walked up and settled on the bench beside him.

"Here you go." She offered him a tall, covered cup of coffee.

Rick stared at her for a long moment, then down at the coffee in her hand as if it was a foreign object. He lifted his gaze to hers, again. "Thanks." He returned his gaze to the water.

"Mmhhm." Kate clasped her hands together and followed his gaze. After a moment she said. "Tell me something, Castle…Why did he let you live?"

He had been wondering the very same thing and as he looked at her, he suddenly knew the answer. "To punish me."

Kate turned to him with a questioning gaze.

"Make me pay for ruining his plan." He looked away from her then, unable to see the sympathy in her eyes, or the disappointment. "Now he's going to kill again all because I couldn't stop him." He felt his stomach knot up and his chest constrict, even as Kate offered him some privacy by turning her eyes away again. "And I feel so…" For the first time ever in his life, he was at a loss for words.

Kate turned back to him when he didn't finish his sentence. She understood how hard it could be to describe such a feeling.

She saw the devastation on his face, the uncertainty and doubt and placed her hand on his knee. "I know the feeling," she admitted and turned her eyes towards the water once more.

Rick slid his gaze to her and in that moment admired her more than he ever thought possible. Of course she knew. She had been feeling the same feeling for half of her life. He linked his hand with hers. "I know you do."

They sat there, staring at the water in silence; each lost in their own doubts and fears, yet united in their insecurity.

She looked down at their joined hands, and suddenly realized that he was trembling. "I'm glad you're okay."

He looked at her, and the brooding, false bravado he'd been holding onto dropped away, leaving him naked, his emotions bared for her to see. "I knew you'd come."

Kate couldn't take it anymore, she had tried to maintain her distance, but he was in agony. She pulled him into her arms, felt the trembling across his broad shoulders, and held on with all she had. "I've got you." She whispered and felt tears sting her eye again, but she didn't care that every cop around them might be watching.

She had been where he was. She knew the knowledge of letting a killer escape and the horrendous guilt of any future deaths that killer might claim.

An officer cleared his throat and they reluctantly pulled apart. "Do you need to take a ride in the ambulance, Mr. Castle?"

Rick shook his head. "No…" He looked at Beckett. "Just a ride home. Can…can we leave?"

She nodded and they rose, calling out to Esposito to take over. They settled in her car and she started the engine.

"Kate?"

She turned to him. "It wasn't your fault."

"I should have kept him talking. If I had just stalled…"

"He might have decided to kill you." Kate pulled away from the hotel and onto the main street, trying to force back that fear. "You did everything right, Castle. The power was taken away from you. You did what you could do, and that was more than what most would have. You kept him from killing Ryan and you kept him from killing you."

"But I…."

"Don't," she warned. "Second guessing yourself will only frustrate you; it won't change the situation or the outcome. Believe me, I've been where you are. You just have to try and accept it and live with the consequences."

"Even when he kills another person?"

"He's the killer, Castle. Not you, don't you ever forget that."

Castle was silent for a long while, then said. "You said I looked like a killer once, in fact you thought I had killed that woman."

She waved her hand at him. "I said you kill my patience and I believed you killed her for about 9/10ths of a second."

"Then why did you handcuff me and browbeat me and…and do all of that?"

"Because you ticked me off!" She bit her lip and turned her attention back to the road. "It doesn't matter, anyway. All of that has nothing to do with this and I know you did everything you could to keep Jerry with you." She shook her head even as she pulled into the lot of Castle's building. "Which just goes to prove how crazy you must be, anyone else would have been pleading for him to leave."

"I wanted you to catch him." He stared through the windshield for several seconds, lost in thought, even though she had turned the car off and he was officially home. "I was arrogant. I thought I…we had caught the triple killer and yet…" He shook his head. "I was a fool."

"He played us both." She stepped out of the car. "Come on, Martha and Alexis are probably worried sick about you."

He nodded but still didn't move. Kate leaned into the car. "Rick."

He looked at her, tried to remember if she had ever used his first name before, and couldn't. He moved from the car, walked with her past the doorman and headed up to his penthouse/loft apartment.

He stood outside his door for a long moment. "I'm not ready see them." He admitted, gruffly. "I feel…" He suddenly released a shaky breath and put his hand to his heart, even as his legs started to give beneath him and he slid down the wall. "I…I can't breathe."

Kate quickly tucked his head between his knees and crouched beside him. Her heart went out to him, having suffered a similar attack just moments ago, herself. It was horrible to feel so out of control.

"Deep breaths," she ordered. "It's the shock wearing off." She glanced back as the apartment door opened and Martha looked out, covering her mouth with her hand in dismay.

"I…I can't let them…see me…Alexis…" He gasped as he struggled to calm himself. He didn't even notice Martha.

Kate shook her head at Martha and the older woman nodded and silently closed the door again, leaving her son and the detective to compose themselves.

Kate ran her hand up and down Castle's back in slow soothing circles. She wished she could do more, but he would have to work it out for himself.

After a few minutes he seemed to regain his senses and allowed Kate to give him a hand up off the floor. As always, his charm kicked in. "Thank you, Kate." He leaned forward and lightly kissed her cheek. "You truly are extraordinary."

She smiled and squeezed his arm in support, then, unable to tear her gaze from his she felt the incredible pull of attraction that she so often fought off. Usually she would just move away or make a sarcastic comment, but she didn't think he could take either form of rejection at the moment.

Instead she continued to look into his eyes and allowed herself a brief moment of indulgence. He really did have the most beautiful eyes. "Castle," she began, wanting to offer him more the comfort. She put her hand on his chest. "You…I…"

"Yes?" he prompted softly and for once she didn't hear his usual flirtation, it was something closer to agreement.

Her phone rang and broke the moment. She pulled it out of her coat pocket. "Beckett?" She looked at Castle who was already stepping back and putting some distance between them. "Okay, I'll be right there."

"Another murder?"

"No, just some follow up." She indicated his apartment door. "Go inside. Have a drink, a good stiff one." She paused and allowed him a small. "Have one for me too."

He touched her arm. "Will you call me later, if…If you learn anything?"

She nodded. "You'll be the first." She gave him a tiny shove. "Go home, Castle."

He stared at her for a moment longer then reached for the door. Alexis and Martha were waiting for him. He stepped inside and Alexis was immediately in her father's arms.

"Oh Dad." She hung on tight and closed her eyes.

Martha put a hand on her son's broad shoulders and looked past her family to the detective standing just outside their door. "Thank you, Kate," she offered kindly, concern for her son obvious.

Kate nodded and tore herself away from the heart wrenching scene and turned as Martha slowly closed the door.


	2. Chapter 2

_DISCLAIMER_: CASTLE and all its characters belong to ABC and their creator the great Andrew W. Marlowe. I am merely borrowing these characters to express my artistic perception of an hourly show that seems all to brief. _**Spoilers for Episodes '3XK' (Triple Killer) in Season Three and 'Boom' in Season Two**_. Long Live Castle and Beckett in the beautiful bodies of Nathan Fillon and Stana Katic!

While I am aware I cannot satisfy everyone, I do try to stay as true to the characters as I can and welcome any criticism or praise regarding my stories. This said, based on a review by Jayce Gish I re-read this chapter and had to agree with her assessment. So I have adjusted some of the content and end of chapter. Please review and let me know if you approve. Chapter Four coming soon!

CHAPTER TWO

Kate sighed as she let herself into her hotel room. She still had not found a place to live permanently, who had time? Now, she had grown accustomed to the small room just a few blocks from the precinct. Tonight however, walking into the simple two room space depressed her. It had been fully furnished, and she was fine with that. She'd buy new furniture when she found a new loft.

She dropped the two file boxes by the door, pulled off her coat and dropped it, along with her purse on a nearby chair. She sat down on the uncomfortable comfortable sofa and pulled off her boots, taking a moment to massage her aching feet.

She fell back against the sofa, raised her arms over her head for a long stretch, and wondered how Castle was doing. She'd been so afraid for him and that fear seemed to stay with her the entire night.

When Martha had called, frantic that something was wrong with her son, Kate was sure she felt something break inside of her. Castle injured? Castle kidnapped? Castle _dead_?

She winced and shook away the thought as she rose, removed her gun and holster and set them on the table by the phone, then selected a long-neck bottle from the small fridge at the edge of a small corner kitchen. She twisted off the top and swallowed half the beer, then set it on the counter.

She entered the bedroom, peeled off her clothes and walked into the bathroom. She paused as she reached down to turn on the taps, and suddenly sunk onto the toilet and covered her face in her hands.

She'd been secretly infatuated with Richard Castle since she read his first book. Then, upon meeting him, he was everything she could have hoped for and more. And yet…

Having him forced upon her had diminished his original shine. His precious friendship with the Mayor got him what he wanted, despite her protests, and so she shelved her infatuation and tried to find things about him she didn't like.

Castle was way too charming for his own good. She was convinced that he was every bit the womanizer the tabloid's reported. He thought his popularity and good looks could get him anything he wanted, and he seemed to know every important person in the state of New York and beyond. That annoyed her too, how he could just call up and ask a 'friend' a favor to get a warrant or information vital to the investigation that she herself, a decorated homicide cop, could not procure.

'_**How many times did that information resolve a murder?'**_

She rubbed her hands over her face and reached again for the shower taps. More than once, despite her orders to stay out of it, Castle's interference had garnered invaluable information that was crucial to solving the case. She moaned as she stepped into the shower and let the pulsing water wash away the grime of the day.

Admittedly, she occasionally took advantage of Castle's eagerness to help, but it was only when the case was time sensitive. All she had to do was mention needing a warrant, or acquiring vehicle information and Castle would pick up his cell phone and viola, they had the information within hours.

He had an insatiable thirst for solving the case, much like she was when she first became a police officer; perhaps that was why she let so many things slide when it came to him. He still tried to solve everything with literary references and his mind…Well, Castle's mind was both amusing and frightening sometimes. Some scenarios he came up with were just beyond reality, and yet there were several cases his wit and storytelling had helped to solve.

She lathered shampoo in her hair. Castle had a sixth sense when it came to murder, and he seemed to resolve almost any possible conflict of how someone died. Sometimes, he almost seemed to be in the head of the actual killer, and that was when things got scary. He appeared to have an insane number of ways to murder someone, he knew forensics, ballistics, multiple methods of gunshot wounds, poisons and she didn't want to think how many scenarios he could come up with to get rid of a body.

She dropped her hands from her hair and leaned into the spray. With all her experience as a Homicide detective, and Castle's immense possible scenarios, it made her even angrier that neither of them picked up on Jerry's set up of Gates. She had been so intent on Gates that it had never even occurred to her that the man was being set up, and the fact that Castle also did not see through the frame up made it even more depressing.

She should have known better, especially after their mistakes with Scott Dunn a few months earlier. She would have died if Castle hadn't figured out who the real killer was, and almost did in the explosion that destroyed her apartment. After that scenario, both of them should have been looking a lot closer at Jerry, yet neither of them did.

She rinsed her hair and vigorously scrubbed her body until her skin was red from the effort. She never really felt clean after a case like this; never felt settled. Perhaps that was because of her mother. She sighed as she stepped out and toweled off as Castle's voice drifted through her mind

'_**I knew you'd come.'**_

His soft admission had almost been her undoing and yet, it was probably the most wonderful thing anyone had ever said to her. It showed he believed in her, trusted her completely. She hadn't felt like that since her mother was alive. It made her feel both frightened and powerful, to acknowledge that someone had that much faith in you.

She sniffed and wiped her nose, refusing to allow any more tears to be shed. Castle was okay, she was okay, they would move on. She quickly dressed in her pajamas, retrieved her beer and grabbed one of the boxes in the corner she had brought home.

Stepping back into the bedroom, she climbed onto the bed, placed her beer on the bedside table and pulled one of the folders from the box. The face of the Triple Killer stared at her from an 8 x10 photo.

"I will find you," she vowed and turned the page. She intended to go over these files a thousand times if necessary, and when she found the clues she needed, she would hunt down Jerry Tyson and bring him to justice.


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: CASTLE and all its characters belong to ABC and their creator the great Andrew W. Marlowe. I am merely these borrowing these characters to express my artistic perception of an hourly show that seems all to brief_**. SPOILERS for 3XK (Triple Killer) episode.**_

**CHAPTER THREE**

Rick sat staring in the dark, staring at the fire he had built in the wall-sized fireplace, with a sifter of Cognac nestled between his hands. His mother and daughter had finally toddled off to bed and in a way, he had been relieved. They had been extremely concerned for him and were on the verge of smothering when Martha, perhaps sensing his need to be alone, suggested she and Alexis retire.

Alexis had been loathe to leave her father's side from the moment he had walked in the door and he'd loved her for it. But his mind could not free itself from that evening's events and after awhile, he had wanted, no, needed to be alone.

He stared into the flames, watching the way they danced about in their containment and cast eerie shadows against the walls. Fire was a fascinating thing, it offered warmth and sustenance, allowed you to cook your food or light your way. And yet, it could also burn you, scar your flesh and destroy your home or livelihood, your very life. Once started everything it touched would be consumed.

Much like the Triple Killer. They had arrested the wrong man, had been led along the path that Jerry had set for them and they hadn't even blinked. He scowled and took a sip of his drink. That was what had bothered him most. That neither he nor Beckett had seen through the smoke screen.

He thought about Beckett's building blowing up, how he had almost lost her because a killer had been playing with them and had led them to believe everything was over. She had almost died and if he hadn't smartened up and noticed the error…

He winced at the sudden pain in his chest and shook the thought away. What was wrong with him? He wasn't one to dwell on things. In fact, he was, at times, quite proud of his shallowness. But he couldn't help being deeply affected by Beckett. Beautiful, strong, extraordinary…Truly his greatest inspiration.

He'd hurt her when he returned to the Hamptons and hadn't called her right away, but he honestly hadn't known what to say. Their goodbye at the station before he left for the summer had been…difficult and somewhat uncertain. He hadn't meant to hurt her, and in truthfulness she could have called him at any time, yet she hadn't. Perhaps that was why he was wary of calling her when he returned.

Had he just wanted to see if she would miss him? He had been too proud to admit that he needed her to miss him, and refused to be the first to call. Woman were always calling him, tracking him down, invading his space; but not Beckett. Beckett seemed to go out of her way sometimes to keep space between them.

After the fiasco of being caught at a murder scene and he saw how the rest of his friends from the 12th had treated him, he knew he had misjudged. They were all horribly upset with him and the reason why was obvious, he had hurt his closest friend. Beckett didn't show it, not really, her demeanor changed, she became uncaring and aggressive, but she didn't show she was hurt. But then, she never showed when she was hurting; unless you took the time to really look.

So, he had made it up to her, and now they were back as they were; only something was different. He'd always looked forward to going to work with her before, but lately, he almost couldn't wait for it. Before it had been about a new murder, a new mystery, a new chance to solve the case, now, if he was honest with himself, it was because he missed Beckett when she wasn't around.

Anytime he tried to get close to her, or tried to hint at a relationship more than friends and partners she brushed him off. She backpedaled so fast he could barely keep up. She was scared, and he understood that. He was too, if he was honest with himself. He loved women, no doubt about it, hell he'd had three wives, and yet what he felt for them didn't seem to even come close to what he found himself feeling for Kate.

What that meant, he had no idea, he only knew that he had to stay with her, support her, try and make her life…better somehow. That was going to be even more difficult, considering he was now thinking of giving up detective work altogether.

Jerry had proven how ineffective a writer could be in the real world of homicide. Beckett was always reminding him that he was not a cop. He did not carry a gun (Not for lack of wanting to). She was always after him to stay put and out of the way during a suspect apprehension or sting.

He considered her warnings amusing, she wanted to keep him safe, but anymore he never really believed she meant for him to stay behind, it was more a game they played now. Only, after all that had happened the last few days, perhaps it was more.

Maybe she was serious about him having no business barging in where even the most veteran cops often feared to trod. Maybe he'd allowed it to amuse him because his ego, and his heart, couldn't believe that she really didn't want him there. Maybe she really did, even after all this time, just consider him a person she _had_ to work with, regardless of her own feelings?

He polished off his drink, leaned forward to refill it from the decanter on the table, then settled back and continued to stare into the fire. She'd charged in and rescued him, put her life on the line for him so many times, but was he leading her into danger? Sure, she was a cop, danger was part of her makeup, part of the job, but did working with him cause unnecessary peril for her?

He considered what would have happened if Beckett had gone along with Ryan and Jerry. He was well aware that she only let him go with Ryan to reward him for a job well done. Like giving a cookie to a well behaved child, and he had eagerly taken that offering, but what if she had gone? Would Jerry have been compelled to kill her or would Beckett have somehow found a way to stop him from leaving? The answer was obvious. If he hadn't been in the way, Beckett would have stopped Jerry from killing again.

"Drinking for two?"

Rick looked up at his mother, dressed in a silk robe that no doubt matched her nightdress. She looked as perfect and more than a little concerned. His gaze wandered to the half empty Cognac bottle and the extra glass on the coffee table.

He smirked but felt no amusement. "I promised Beckett I'd have one for her.

Martha nodded in understanding. She'd tossed and turned upstairs for over an hour, unable to get Richard's words out of her mind.

The idea that three such little words could cause her such instant joy and then such fear was incomprehensible. She knew her son loved her and she adored him as well, but they never really said the words. She could count on one hand the times he had used those actual words, he told her in other ways of course.

Forgoing the possibility of sleep she tossed back the bed covers, pulled on her robe and slippers and headed downstairs. Just the soft glow from the large fireplace lit the apartment as it tossed shadows around the darkened room, and a single form was settled on the sofa opposite the kitchen.

"I'm a great stand in, you know?" She settled beside him, leaned forward and picked up the empty glass. "I once stood in for the great Betty Davis."

He paused for only a brief moment before sitting forward, picking up the bottle of Cognac and pouring some into her glass. "Yes, I know."

She swallowed about half of the glass, as Rick sunk back against the cushions. "Are you okay?"

"Mostly."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Okay." She curled her feet up under her and sipped her drink as they both stared at the wall. "It's been a hell of a night."

"Yes."

"Alexis has been nominated for class president…again."

Rick smile was real this time. "She's got a lot of her grandmother in her."

"And her father, I should think." They were silent for a moment, then she said. "You'll be miserable at work tomorrow if you don't get some sleep, darling."

Rick scoffed. His was a writer, not a cop. His work was to write mystery novels, not become part of the mysteries himself. Not run about endangering the lives of those people he cared about. What he had been doing was playing, not work. Playing at being a detective. Playing at solving crimes and believing that he could actually do the kind of job Beckett, and Ryan and Esposito did every day.

He turned to his mother and tried to imagine what he would do if someone from his recent excursions with the police came back and hurt his family. An unfathomable pain hit him square in the chest and took his breath away. Death was, of course, a part of life; but to see those he loved murdered because of his selfishness?

He wrote about murder every day, now he was living it, investigating it, and yet the horror that would assail him at the idea of being called to a murder scene and finding Alexis or Martha as the victim…He couldn't breathe. His heart was thudding in his chest, forcing his blood through his veins, but he couldn't breathe!

Martha immediately took Rick's drink, set it on the table with her own, and then put wrapped an arm around her son's shoulders. "Sweetheart." Was all she said and caressed his hair as he attempted to catch get through another panic attack. "Breathe, darling. In…Out…In…Out…That's it, love. Mother's here."

"I meant it, you know," he murmured, softly as he began to regain his wits. "I knew you…you'd understand when I said it, but…I still meant it."

"I know my darling." She wrapped her other arm around him and cradled him, as much as she could against her, resting her chin on the top of his head. "I was honestly terrified for you. That's why I called Kate."

He sat up and looked at her. "Do you ever regret having me? You could have gone on to a more lustrous career if you hadn't had a baby to worry about."

She touched his cheek and smiled. "Darling, I never worried about you, you practically raised yourself;" she grimaced. "You had to really, and there were always nannies and sitters around." She met his gaze. "Do you ever feel angry with me for leaving you with them as often as I did?"

"When I was young, and didn't understand, but now…" He smiled at her. "I know you better."

Martha blinked several times, alarmed to find her eyes suddenly moist. "You are a wonderful son, Richard, and an amazing father."

He suddenly started to shake and leaned toward her again. "Mother."

She enveloped him and rocked him until the shaking stopped.


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: CASTLE and all its characters belong to ABC and their creator the great Andrew W. Marlowe. I am merely these borrowing them. Please, please review!

CHAPTER FOUR

Kate entered the precinct early the next morning to find a huge arrangement of flowers on her desk. She hadn't gotten to sleep until sometime after two, when the words in the files she had been going over had finally started to blur. Her alarm had gone off promptly at five, which left her feeling even more tired.

She set her purse and jacket over her chair and pulled out the card, curious. She was surprised by the elegant scroll across the card that read, '_Thank you for bringing him home_.'

A shiver of warmth slid over her at Martha's gratitude and she set the card in a special place in her wallet. She leaned in and smelled the flowers, amazed at the array of scents and immediately felt re-energized.

She settled down at her desk and reached for her stack of messages.

"Secret Admirer?"

Kate glanced up at the familiar voice and experienced another warm sensation. She had not expected him in today. "Hi," she greeted and accepted the large coffee he offered her from Starbucks. "They're from Martha, actually."

Rick lifted an eyebrow and digested the information, then settled in his usual chair beside her desk and sipped his own coffee. "So…what's on the agenda today?"

The fact that Castle did not question why his mother might be sending her flowers told Kate how close mother and son really were. "Murder, mayhem and mystery…" she smiled. "The usual."

Rick returned her smile, but it did not reach his eyes. "Marvelous! Where do we start?"

She reached across her desk and picked up the enormous stack of folders, then plopped them down in front of him. "The mundane."

He groaned, as was expected. "Really?"

"Cold Cases waiting to be solved." She handed him about ten of the folders. "Fresh eyes means fresh leads. Knock yourself out, Sherlock."

He grimaced. "Can't we go to the park and hunt up a body?"

She flashed him a scolding look. "Why, Castle, surely you're not looking forward to finding a murder victim?"

He swallowed suddenly as he considered that no one was safe with the Triple Killer on the loose. "No," he agreed and selected the first folder off the top. "This is fine."

Kate had expected him to make a witty come back and her frown deepened as she opened the first folder and stared blankly at the pages. Castle wasn't a cop and this wasn't his job. She sometimes forgot that he was a writer first and a side-kick second.

She studied him quietly; as he pretended to be busy reading through the first file he had opened. He looked as enthused as she was about it, yet there was something a little too tense in his posture. "How is Alexis?"

"Fine."

"How did you sleep?"

"Fine."

Kate's concern for him grew and reached forward and touched his arm. "You don't have be here."

His head shot up as if she slapped him. "Afraid I'll get myself kidnapped again and you'll have to play hero?" he demanded tossing the file folder back on her desk and rising.

"No!" Kate immediately rose. "I didn't mean it like that!

"Then how did you mean it?"

"It's just…maybe you should take some time to…"

"It's because I'm not a cop, isn't it?" he snarled. "Because I didn't go to your precious academy…because I don't make minimum wage I'm not good enough anymore?"

Kate's eyes narrowed on him. She knew he was hurting, but she wasn't about to put up with a temper tantrum from him in the middle of her precinct. She caught his arm and spun him towards one of the interview rooms.

Once inside she released him. "You need to calm the hell down," she growled. "Or I will have you escorted out."

The simple change in Beckett from sympathy to anger short circuited his sudden rage. He looked at her, lowered his eyes and dropped into one of the chairs, clutching his hands. "You're right. I…I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm saying…"

Kate's expression immediately softened. She pulled the only other chair around so she was facing him and sat down. After a few seconds of debate she folded her hands over his clenched ones. "It will be okay."

He lifted his eyes to hers and held onto the strength he saw in them. He wanted to be here, he wanted to push through the pain and despair, as he had seen her do on countless occasions. He had believed himself strong, and yet his hands continued to shake.

"Will it?" he asked, quietly. "Do you…?" He shook his head and rose suddenly. "You're right. I shouldn't be here. I have no rights to be here and to interfere and…"

Kate crossed one leg over the other and stared at him. "Okay…Who are you and what have you done with Richard Castle?"

Her comment drew only a small smile from him. "I'm serious," he insisted as he paused to look through the two way mirror, then lowering his eyes from her reflection. "If I hadn't been involved you would have the Triple Killer locked up."

"Castle," Kate rose and turned him towards her. "If you hadn't been involved, I never would have received the call from Martha, and honestly, I wouldn't have put it together until Jerry was long gone."

Rick shook his head, defeated.

"We know who he is now. We will find him and we will bring him in."

Rick stared at her, his expression bleak. "Before he kills again?"

Kate let her hand drop away from his arm. She wouldn't lie to him. "I hope so, but no, I can't say for sure."

"You have to catch him, Kate. He's a monster."

"_**We**_ will," she impressed. "I promise you that we will catch him." He looked so helpless and the urge to embrace him was strong, but she pushed it away. "We need to step away for a moment and catch our breath," she offered, more for his benefit then hers, neglecting to mention she had spent half the night going over the files already and found almost nothing new in them. "We're both too close to this, so we need to approach it with fresh eyes. I have all the files and we can go over them, but not right now, okay?"

"You're right," he agreed. "Maybe… some air,"

"I find lowering the shades and curling up with a good book helps," she counseled and then leaned in to whisper. "I could recommend a pretty good writer."

He smirked. "I certainly hope you're talking about me," he warned. "I would hate to think you've been unfaithful."

"Never!" she promised, allowed herself a small smile, but did not hold it. "Nothing is happening here. Go home take a nap, and I will call if anything comes up."

"I can't sleep," he denied. "Every time I close my eyes…" He shook his head.

Kate knew from experience that the nightmares came easiest when you tried to relax. "Watch an old movie, do some writing, just something to soothe you."

He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "Yes, I guess that would be best." He moved towards the door. "You promise to call me?"

"Absolutely."

"I don't want to be left out, Beckett. I know I seem…broken at the moment, but I need to have something to do. I still want to be here…with you."

Kate nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat his words caused. "I won't make a move without you."

"I should be writing," he nodded as they stepped out of the interview room. "It's what I do, right?"

"Some of what you do, anyway."

Rick appreciated her words as they paused at her desk. "Would you like me to take some of that home with me?" he asked indicating the stack of files.

She shook her head. "Not today." He needed time away from the reality of police work. "I'll save you some."

He groaned, pretending to put some normalcy back into their interaction. "Wonderful. Something to look forward to."

"Say good-bye, Castle."

"Good-bye, Castle," he retorted with a small smile, picked up his coffee and headed out, almost walking into Esposito as the detective entered the bullpen.

"Hey Castle, how…?"

Castle brushed past him without an acknowledgement.

Esposito looked at Kate. "What's up with him?"

Kate shook her head and willed herself not to go after him. He needed time or he would never heal properly. "He has some things to do."

Esposito nodded. "Nice flowers. Castle?"

"Martha."

"Huh." He perched on the corner of her desk. "He's lucky to be alive."

Kate shrugged. "I don't think he feels that way, right now."

"It's the trauma, he'll get over it, he's tough."

"How's Ryan?"

"They kept him overnight for observation. I was just on my way over to pick him up and thought I'd check if we had anything going yet?"

Kate indicated the stack of folders on her desk. "Help yourself."

Esposito suddenly rose. "Um...yeah, so…I'll just go get Ryan. May be awhile, you know, in case he has a relapse…"

Kate held back her smile, until he was out of sight, then sighed and reached for the top folder on her stack.


End file.
